Daddies Who Cry
by wizards-inmyattic
Summary: A little Next Generation fluff/drabble, focusing on the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts. After the war, 5-year-old Molly Weasley finds her father Percy crying. Why is he crying? Daddies don't cry, Daddies are supposed to be strong. What happens when Percy shares the root of his sadness with his daughter? How will it change her and what will she do to help?


**_May 2nd, 2010_**

Five-year-old Molly Weasley followed her mother Audrey out of her younger sister's room. Lucy had just gone down for her nap, and Molly was lacking her playmate. She needed something to do, or Audrey would "suggest" that she take a rest of her own.

Where was her father?

Molly walked down the stairs and in the direction of Percy's study. The door was closed. To an older person, that would mean she should knock before entering, but little Molly didn't think of that. She reached up and turned the knob.

A shocking sight greeted her.

Her father, the man Molly looked up to, was sitting in his chair—the large chair that Molly loved to spin in while he was at work—crying. Daddies didn't cry. What was happening?

"Daddy? Are you all right?"

Percy looked up, startled. He hadn't considered the fact that closed doors don't usually deter small children. Growing up with Fred and George had instilled that into him from a young age. But in the midst of his tears, he had forgotten.

"Why are you crying Daddy?" asked Molly. She pondered him with wide eyes.

"Daddy's is just thinking," Percy answered, placing the moving scrapbook in his arms onto the desk carefully. "Do you know what today is?"

Molly nodded. "Uh-huh. It's Victoire's birthday. We're going to Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur's house for dinner Did you forget, Daddy? That's all right. I made her a macaroni necklace. You can say it's from you too, if you'd like. I won't tell anyone."

With a slight chuckle in spite of his tears, Percy held out his arms for his daughter. She happily clambered into his lap and picked up the book he had put down.

"What's this?"

"I'll show you." Percy opened the scrapbook. All Molly saw was red.

She grabbed a fistful of her own hair. "It matches," she said after a moment. Molly pointed to a picture of a family in front of some pyramids. "Who are those people?"

Percy sighed. He had been expecting this question. Willing himself not to cry again, he named the people in the picture. "Look, that's Uncle George, and Uncle Ron, and Uncle Charlie, and Nana Molly, and Grandpa Arthur, and Aunt Ginny, and Uncle Bill, and there's me, and…" his voice trailed off, cracking.

Molly was a smart girl. She realized her father had skipped someone on the end. "I _know_ that, but who's next to you? He looks 'zactly like Uncle George."

"You know how your friend Lysander has a twin brother?"

"Uh-huh," said Molly. "But they don't like the same things. Lysander likes porridge and Lorcan likes pancakes. They tried to get me to say which one was better, but I like pancakes and porridge equally. What about you?"

Percy gave a soft smile as his daughter readjusted herself in his lap so she could see his face. "Well, sweetheart, like Lysander, Uncle George had a twin. They weren't like Lysander and Lorcan; they loved the same things and were inseparable."

Molly mulled this over for a moment. "He _had_ a twin? Where did he go?"

Wrapping his arms firmly around Molly, Percy began a story. He told her about he-who-must-not-be-named, and how Uncle Harry defeated him when he was just a baby. Then he talked about Fred and George Weasley, two of the best people he had ever had the pleasure of knowing, and how Fred was stolen from them by the same man who took the lives of Uncle Harry's parents. It was a dark tale, and Molly listened eagerly in spite of her obvious fright. When Percy was done, Molly stared at him with wide eyes.

"Uncle Fred was your brother too," she said finally. "Just like Lacey is still Lysander's sister even though Lorcan is his twin."

"Yes sweetheart."

Quietly, Molly knelt in her father's lap and reached up to hug him tightly. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm sorry about Uncle Fred. But the mean man is gone, right? He's never coming back?"

"Never," promised Percy.

"He died on Victoire's birthday, didn't he Daddy? They both did. That's why you always cry on it. Last year, you had to stay home from the party because you weren't feeling well. Is it because you have a broken heart?"

Percy gave a solemn nod, pressing a kiss to his daughter's forehead. She leaped off his lap and ran off, calling over her shoulder, "I can help Daddy! I know what to do."

Molly was back in a moment, carrying her toy first aid kit. It was a gift from her mother, who worked as a Healer at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. The kit was of the muggle sort, but Molly loved it nonetheless.

"Here Daddy, I have a band-aid." She took out an adhesive bandage and stuck it to her father's chest firmly. "There. All better?"

"All better," Percy answered. He gave her another kiss, not having the heart to tell her that his heart was on the _left_ side, or that you couldn't heal a broken heart with a band-aid, or that if you could do so, the band-aid would need to be under his shirt. It was the thought that counted.

Unseen by the pair, Audrey stood in the doorway of her husband's study, watching them with a soft smile on her face.

Later that day, Percy, Audrey, Molly and Lucy went to Bill and Fleur's home for Victoire's tenth birthday party. Lucy toddled off to play with her cousin Rose, who was four, the same age as her. Percy and Audrey began greeting family and family friends alike with bright smiles, despite what Molly knew her Daddy was feeling in his heart.

The girl in question was on a mission. She just had to find her uncle…

He was talking to Uncle Harry, bouncing his baby girl Roxanne on his hip.

"UNCLE GEORGE!" Molly cried, running to him and pulling on his pants leg to gain his attention. "Uncle George, I have something for you! Could you please, please, _please_ come see it now? Please Uncle George?"

George gave his niece a smile. He handed Roxanne to Harry, took Molly's hand and allowed her to lead him past Fleur's vegetable garden. Molly told him to sit on the bench beside the tomatoes while she got his present. "You do know that today is Victoire's birthday, not mine, yeah?"

But Molly was not to be deterred.

When she returned from the family car with a shoe-box, George was puzzled. He took the box from her anyway. Inside was a large jar that smelled faintly of vinegar. Why had she given him a pickle jar? But when George lifted the jar out of the tissue paper bed, his breath caught in his throat.

Molly had somehow glued (or stuck magically, who knew with that girl) little figurines to the lid of the jar. She also managed filled the jar with glitter and water and made a cute little snow globe. It was breathtaking, at least for a child of her age. But that wasn't what startled George.

It was the scene in the globe.

A sandy-colored pyramid was in the center, with two redheaded figurines standing in front of it with their arms around each other's shoulders. The one to the left wore a jumper with a bright green 'G' and the one to the right wore a jumper with a bright green 'F.'

It was Fred and George.

"I painted my Legos," Molly explained. "The paint is waterproof, don't worry."

George didn't speak; he simply wrapped his arms around his niece. She continued to talk, her voice muffled by his shirt. "Daddy told me about what happened. I found him crying in his study, you know. He said that you and Uncle Fred were two of the best people he ever had the pleasure of knowing. So I decided to give you this, in case you're sad about your twin."

"And I have this." Molly took the macaroni necklace that was originally for Victoire and gave it to her uncle, who was trying to stop his tears. He examined her face as she put the necklace around his neck. Molly looked crestfallen. "Why are you crying, Uncle George? Don't you like it?"

"I do, Molly. I love it. Thank you."

From the gazebo with Audrey and Ginny, Percy watched George and his daughter. Even after twelve years, they were constantly mourning Fred's death. But it was then that he realized they would be all right. After all, they had each other.

And as far as families went, it was a darn good one.


End file.
